


Manual Dexterity

by anomalousspace



Series: Doctor-Patient Privileges [3]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-03 01:04:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19453183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anomalousspace/pseuds/anomalousspace
Summary: “I’ll admit, the Spirit’s Eve festival usually gives me intestinal pain… but I’ll try my best to be brave.”





	1. Chapter 1

You’re noticeably out of breath when you finally make it to the town square. You categorically refuse to be late to the Spirit’s Eve festival, but you’d lost track of time chopping hardwood in the forest and had to break into a run to make up time. Thankfully, the fall air is cool and crisp against your skin. You stop a moment, both to catch your breath and to take stock of the villagers.

Harvey has promised to meet you here, so you keep an eye out for his characteristic green and brown. You spot Emily near the food, contemplating a platter of candied apples, and head toward her.

“Hey Em! Happy Spirit’s Eve!” 

She waves enthusiastically, mouth full of caramel apple. After a few seconds, she responds: “Happy Spirit’s Eve! Are you going to try out the maze? I heard the Wizard say it’s especially creepy this year and wandered in a little. But it’s too scary for me, I think.”

You nod. “I always try the maze. Maybe this year I’ll make it to the end for once. By the way, Em, have you seen Harv? We’re supposed to meet here.”

She pauses a moment, then shakes her head. “If I see him, I’ll let him know you’re looking.”

“Thanks. I think I’ll go look for him.” You snag a caramel apple of your own and set off.

You don’t see Harvey, and for a brief moment you wonder if his nerves got the better of him. When you’d asked him this morning about his plans for tonight, he’d mumbled something about listening to the air traffic.

“I was hoping,” you’d said, punctuating your words with a kiss, “that you’d come with me to the Spirit’s Eve festival. It’s _almost_ my favorite holiday.”

“Almost?”

“Almost. Number one is Winter 14th,” you’d said with a smirk.

He’d blushed at that and folded you into his arms. He’d pressed a kiss to your hair, and spoken quietly. “I have a hard time with the crowds at festivals in general. Something to do with the feeling that I can’t get a moment to myself. Although, spending time with you certainly mitigates that.”

He’d taken a deep breath, and added, a little shakily, “I’ll admit, the Spirit’s Eve festival usually gives me intestinal pain, but I’ll try my best to be brave. Meet you there at 10?”

You’d given him a quick squeeze. “Absolutely.”

And that had been that. It’s not like Harvey to break his word. He must be here somewhere.

Finally you spot him. A familiar green, brown, and visibly nervous form is hovering near the path to the bus stop, a healthy distance from the caged skeletons. He’s looking around, scanning for something, but facing the opposite direction from you. You walk up behind him and take his hand.

“Who -- oh! I was wondering where you were.”

“Sorry. I was running a little late and ended up coming from the forest instead of the bus stop.” You squeeze his hand and take a bite of your caramel apple, then wordlessly offer it to him with a gesture. He perks up a little bit at the prospect.

“One thing I did always like about Spirit’s Eve was a good caramel apple.” He takes a bite and passes it back to you, and you both chew in companionable silence for a few moments. The combination of sweet and tart bursts in your mouth and you luxuriate a little in the flavor. Still holding Harvey’s hand, you pull him closer to the skeletons.

He’s apprehensive, but lets you lead him in. “I’m not sure where they even find these things. They give me the creeps,” he says with a shudder.

“I’ve seen them in the mines,” you say. “Down in some of the lower levels, where more of the good stuff is.” You take another crunchy bite of caramel apple.

He tenses. “Those things are in the _mines?_ ” he asks. “The same mines where you go regularly? And always tell me not to worry?” You want to squeeze his hand again, reassuringly, but he drops yours. When you turn to face him, he’s already looking down at you, arms crossed and a serious expression on his face.

“Harv, relax. I’m more than a match for anything down there. And I’m _careful_.”

“I don’t like you going down there. You go off exploring, and it’s _my_ job to sit in the clinic and wait for someone to bring you in. I’ve patched you up before and you know it. And who knows how many near-misses there’ve been, because it’s not like you’d come home and tell me.” He’s trying to hold it together, but his voice sounds just a little panicked.

You toss the caramel apple in a nearby trash can, then reach out and tug, taking his hands in yours. Harvey sighs and relents a little.

“Harvey. I really am careful. I promise. _Especially_ since I know it bothers you.” You step a little closer to him. “I can’t say I won’t go down there at all. I need to sometimes, to get ore for farm improvements so I hopefully I can afford to feed myself and stay in Stardew Valley, with you. But I _can_ promise to only go when it’s really necessary. And I _will_ come back.”

“I suppose -- I suppose that’s all I can ask. But it won’t stop me worrying when you go down there.”

“I know.” You pull him in for a hug and he wraps himself around you, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Just be careful out there. I have nightmares about you being wheeled into my emergency room,” he says, so quietly it’s hard to hear. You hug him a little tighter in response.

*****

You mingle at the festival, flitting from group to group, but after conversations with Gus, Marnie, Abigail, Shane, George, and Robin, you can tell Harvey is starting to get a little people-ed out. It’s subtle, sure, but you can tell the social interaction is draining him. It manifests as an inconspicuous shift in his bearing, a set to his jaw. He’s too well-mannered to let it really show, but you know him better than most. At the moment, Lewis is trying to interrogate Harvey about, of all things, the state of his business. On a holiday, _honestly._

“Plenty of appointments lined up, doctor? Town treasury could really use the injection of cash from your upcoming business taxes.”

You can tell, Harvey does not want to have this conversation. He tenses beside you, standing unnaturally straight.

“Only the usual, Mayor. But that’s really my goal: to keep people mostly out of my office,” he says mildly, looking meaningfully at you.

You decide to jump in. “Excuse me, Mayor, but Harvey promised me he’d try the maze with me, and if we don’t go now it’ll be too late.”

Lewis checks his watch and nods. “You kids have to have fun while you have the opportunity. We can talk business later.” With that, he walks off towards Marnie.

You lean up and whisper in Harvey’s ear, “I think he thinks he’s being discreet.” Harvey laughs, relieved at the solitude.

“Thanks for the rescue,” he says, “but really, the maze?”

“I actually _do_ like the maze. Besides, it’s late enough that it’s pretty much empty now.” You lean back up to whisper this next part. “Can’t you think of anything interesting that might happen in a dark, secluded place?”

You can barely tell in the dim lighting, but he blushes. “Well, if you put it that way…” he says, trailing off meaningfully.

You take Harvey’s hand and start gently pulling him towards the maze. He trails along behind you, a small, slightly dazed smile on his face.

*****

You enter the maze, hang a left, and almost immediately encounter a dead end. Harvey laughs a little. “Seems like a bad sign.”

“Who says I didn’t intentionally bring you to this spot?” you ask, stepping close to him. You rise up on your toes and use one hand to pull him down to you, his lips meeting yours. He pulls you in closer, pressed flush up against him, and you deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth. He lets out a low moan.

At the sound, you abruptly pull away, leaving him breathless.

“Let’s find the center of this maze. I’ve heard there’s a prize.” With that, you tug Harvey back down the path, heading for the most recent fork.

“I’m not sure my old man heart can take all this excitement,” he grumbles, but follows along anyway.

The rest of the maze is similar. You make good time, but your progress is slowed by the fact that fact that Harvey can’t seem to keep his hands off you, pausing to kiss you at every turn. In fact, he’s distracted enough that the scary parts of the maze just seem to be inconveniences. He carefully steps around the hands groping from the ground, and only pauses for a moment before declaring the giant spiders to be plastic.

“You can tell from the eyes. They’re all dull, not lifelike,” he says.

Soon, you come to a seeming dead end. The weird thing is that there aren’t any other paths to try.

“I guess this is it?” you say, half a question.

Harvey presses in close behind you. “Bit of a let down, huh?”

You turn and raise your arms around his neck. In response, circles his arms around you.

“Well,” you say, “I guess you’ll have to give me some kind of prize.”

He hums approvingly at that and kisses you. When you press your hips flush to his, you can feel the evidence of the night’s excitement. Harvey’s hands skim across your body and your breath catches in your throat as he moves to nuzzle at your neck. “I think I know just what you want,” he murmurs against your skin. His hand creeps down to fidget with the button on your jeans. Not to be outdone, you ghost your hand across the front of his pants, gently squeezing his erection. At that, he sucks in his breath and then catches your wrist with his hand. “Uh-uh,” he says. “You first.”

Before you can protest, he spins you around and resumes nipping at your neck, this time unbuttoning your jeans and working his hand inside in earnest. All the teasing stolen kisses have got you more than ready and his hand parts you. You moan as his other hand comes up to circle your waist.

He’s done this before, and he’s _good_ at it. He finds the rhythm that you like, fingers making small circles, and you tilt your hips toward his hand. He takes the hint and focuses there, involuntarily grinding his erection behind you. “ _Yoba_ ,” you gasp.

Harvey takes that for approval and redoubles his efforts, slipping first one long finger into you and then two. He presses and curls, hitting a spot that makes your knees tremble beneath you.

“Fuck -- How -- _ah_ \-- how are you so good at this?” you breathe.

“Manual dexterity is an important skill in medicine.” He chuckles, then growls as you press back against him.

He’s still working you, hitting that spot deep inside. He repositions his hand a little so the heel of his hand grinds against your clit with every stroke. A tension begins to build deep inside you, sweet and hot.

You cry out as you come, grinding desperately against Harvey’s hand. Your knees feel like they’re about to give out, and you’re grateful for his arms around you keeping you steady.He holds you like that, letting you recover.

When your legs feel like they could hold your weight again, you twist around in his arms.

“Your turn,” you mutter, squeezing his cock through his pants. He groans, grinding into your hand.

“ _Please._ ”

You make short work of the button and zipper and insinuate your hand in his boxers, grasping him. For a moment, you just take in the sensation, hard and soft simultaneously, but soon he whimpers and involuntarily twitches upward towards you.

Taking this as a sign to get to the task at hand, you pull out his cock and do just that. You move slowly at first, teasingly, until Harvey spurs you on with gasping pleas.

“Faster. More. Right -- _oh_ \-- right there _,_ ” he moans above you.

Obligingly, you pick up the pace and, grinning, add a swipe of your thumb across the head of his cock.

“ _Don’t stop. Fuck, don’t stop,”_ he begs. “I’m close. I’m so -- _fuck_ \-- close.”

You bring your free hand around to cradle his balls and he comes with a low, ragged moan, pulsing over your hand.

Harvey pulls you in for a soft, open kiss. “And you say _I’m_ good at that.”

“Well,” you reply, “I guess farmers also have to work with their hands.”

He laughs at that and starts working on rearranging his own clothing back to a respectable state. You work on your own, a less complicated task, and then help him tuck in his shirt.

“You know,” you say conversationally, “Even though you hate the Spirit’s Eve festival, I’d say it went really well.”

He laughs a little at that. “This has certainly been the best festival I’ve ever attended,” he says, “but I think it might be time to pack up and go home.”

“I’m definitely in favor of going home, but I hope you don’t expect to go to sleep right away.”


	2. Chapter 2

The walk back to the farm is only about 15 minutes but the late fall air is chilly, hinting at the arrival of winter. You didn’t have a chance to grab a jacket on the way to the festival and you regret it now, beginning to shiver as you and Harvey pass the bus stop, hand in hand.

He must feel the tremors in your hand, looking down first and then over at you. Wordlessly, Harvey takes off his green tweed jacket and wraps it around you, then pulls you close to his side with one arm, other hand in his pocket.

You smile up at him. “Thanks.”

“It’s my job to take care of you,” he says. “You and this whole town. But it’d be especially bad form for the doctor’s girlfriend to freeze to death walking home.” He bends down just a little to press a kiss to the top of your head, pulls you a little closer to him, and starts walking again, heading toward the farm.

*****

You’re passing the barn, nearly to the house, when you feel it. A rhythmic vibration from the pocket of Harvey’s jacket. You fish out his phone and glance at the screen, a pit forming in your stomach when you see the forwarded call indicator. Harvey only forwards his clinic calls, and it’s after midnight.

“Who --” Harvey starts, but you press the phone into his hand and interrupt.

“Clinic.” 

He nods, a frown creasing his face.

“This is Dr. Harvey,” he answers, phone raised to his ear. He listens for about 30 seconds, then continues. “Use a towel to put pressure on it for now. I’ll meet you at the clinic in ten minutes.”

He ends the call and looks down at you. “Vincent hit his head. I have to go in.”

“Want me to come?”

Harvey shakes his head. “You go inside and warm up. Don’t feel like you have to wait up for me.” He’s calm, but his forehead is creased in an expression you recognize as concern.

You nod, disentangling yourself from his jacket and handing it back over. “You’ll need this more than I do. Take care of him.”

Harvey bends down and presses a quick, soft kiss to your lips before turning and striding briskly back towards town, struggling a little with his jacket on the way.

Shivering again, you watch him from the driveway until he’s out of sight, obscured by a small hill.

*****

Though Harvey told you not to wait up, it’s not like you’d be able to sleep anyway. For one thing, nowadays you’re used to falling asleep with him there too, not necessarily snuggled up against you but almost always touching somewhere, and the bed doesn’t look appealing in his absence. For another, you’re worried about Vincent. He’s a sweet kid, lonely though. Soon after you’d moved here, you stopped to talk to him a few times and given him some foraged grapes and he’d warmed right up to you. He makes a habit of wandering out to the farm at least once a week to ask you all manner of questions about the animals and occasionally show you weird rocks he picked up around the valley.

In the end, you settle for shucking off your farm clothes, replacing them with clean underwear and a black camisole, and wrapping up in your fluffy bathrobe. Instead of heading to bed, you brush your teeth but then curl up on the couch to wait for news. Sighing, you pick up the television remote and flick it on. Not many channels out here, but there’s always reruns of  _ Livin’ Off the Land _ .

*****

You’re half dozing and half watching a man in plaid construct a tapper when the front door creaks open. Groggily, you raise your head and check the time on your phone. 3:27 AM.  _ Very _ late.

Harvey steps into your field of vision, reaches down to grab the remote and turns off the television.

“Thought I told you not to wait up.” It’s not a question, just a quiet statement.

“The bed’s lonely without you.” He smiles a little at that, exhaustion evident on his face. “And I was worried about Vincent. He okay?”

“Fourteen stitches. Not concussed. Jodi and I got him all fixed up; he’ll just have to come back to get the sutures removed next week.”

You exhale, releasing tension you didn’t realize you were holding. “Good. Glad to hear that manual dexterity actually does pay off in your job.”

Harvey snorts and holds out a capable hand to you, still on the couch. “Come on then, time for bed. It’s been an incredibly long day and I’m  _ tired _ .”

You let him pull you to your feet and head into the bedroom, Harvey making a detour to brush his teeth. Glancing at the alarm clock, you make an executive decision to turn off the alarm for tomorrow. The animals’ feed is automated and the clinic isn’t open tomorrow. In other words, tomorrow’s responsibilities can damn well wait until you get to them.

Harvey enters the room just as you hang up your robe and crawl under the blankets. He unceremoniously tosses his shirt, pants, and tie into the laundry hamper and clambers in after you, wearing only his boxers. He folds his glasses on the nightstand, pulls you close to him and kisses you softly.

“Good night,” he mutters.

You murmur back, already half asleep: “Night. Love you.”

*****

You wake to bright sunlight filtering in through the blinds. Craning your head, you can just read the time on the alarm clock: 9:23 AM. You hear a soft snore behind you and slowly turn, taking care not to disturb the heavy arm slung over you.

Harvey is still sleeping, looking incredibly undignified. His face is mashed halfway into the pillow, his mouth is open, and his hair is sticking up at strange angles that put you in mind of a long haired guinea pig.

He lets out another low snore and you feel a surge of tenderness at the sound. You lift yourself up a little to press a kiss to his upturned cheek.

His eyes slowly blink open and he looks at you groggily.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” you say. “You just looked so adorable I had to kiss you.”

He squints, trying to focus through the morning sun from the window. “Time?” he asks, as the realization dawns that it’s later than usual. “Did we sleep through the alarm?”

“I turned it off last night. Figured you could use the sleep after getting home so late. And the animal feed is all automated anyway now.”

Harvey shifts, moving his arm from its haphazard position across you to a purposeful one, cradling the back of your neck.

“If being adorable means you have to kiss someone, I have a lot of catching up to do,” he says, and scoots in to kiss you.

The kiss is deliberate, but gentle. You dart your tongue out to swipe against his lips as he pulls away.

“Good morning,” he says, resting his forehead against yours.

“I know what will definitely make it a good morning.”

He laughs a little at that as you move in to kiss him again.

This time is less gentle, picking up from where the other kiss left off. You nip teasingly at his lower lip and he deepens the kiss, running his tongue lightly over the surface of your lower teeth.

Two things happen, and you’re not sure which is first, chronologically. Harvey brings his hand around from the back of your neck to palm at your breast, rucking up the camisole you’re still wearing in the process, and you scooch right up against him, hooking your leg over his hip.

He moans, low and uneven, and you can feel him half-hard already against you. You grind against him to get friction where you want it but mostly just to hear his reaction: “ _ fuuuck _ ,” long and drawn out.

You tilt your head just so in order to trail a line of kisses down his neck and then lick a long path from his collarbone up to his ear. This time it’s Harvey who grinds against you, maneuvering so your lips can meet as your hand trails down to find and squeeze his round ass.

Through the thin fabric, you rock against him, his cock straining against the confines of his boxers. He breaks the kiss and puts on an approximation of his professional doctor voice, rumbling in a slightly lower register than you know he uses in the clinic. “What treatment did you come in for today, ma’am?”

You giggle, but don’t try to keep up the charade. “I want you in me.”

“In that case, these,” he slips his fingertips just inside the elastic of your underwear, “need to come off and you should turn around.”

“The doctor knows best,” you say with a playful shrug, lifting your hips to remove the offending item of clothing as Harvey does the same with his boxers. You turn, as requested, and he presses his body up behind you, cock thrusting between your legs but not entering you, not yet.

He rocks against you, once and then again, teasing you. You moan. “Harv,  _ please _ . Do it.”

Taking pity on you, he lines himself up and presses into you. Not particularly deep, but so,  _ so _ good.

You gasp, he groans. When he’s seated in you, you take the opportunity to clench for a moment, just to hear his reaction. “ _ Yoba _ ,” and then his hand returns to your breast, massaging as he starts to move.

It’s lazy and comfortable, a Sunday morning if there ever was one. Harvey mutters in your ear, but you can’t quite concentrate to make out what he’s saying, focusing instead on rocking back against him to get him just a little deeper.

He changes tactics then, the muttered words against your skin becoming kisses and nips on your neck, and his hand skimming down from your breast to between your legs, capable fingers circling and skimming across your clit. You moan his name, “ _ Harvey _ ,” shifting your right leg up and hooking it behind his to give him more access and reaching back to wind your fingers in his disheveled hair.

He takes the opportunity and increased access to change the angle a little, hitting  _ that _ spot inside you that drives you wild. You press back against him and fist your hand in his hair a little tighter and he takes the hint, hastening his rhythm, and you feel a hot tension start to build low in you.

“Don’t -- stop.  _ Yoba _ , don’t stop,” you pant as the tension builds, Harvey keeping up his rhythm and gasping against your neck.

“I want --  _ fuck _ \-- I want you to come around me,” he breathes against you.

You’re too close to talk now so you just nod, biting your lower lip and focusing on the sensations. A particularly  _ good _ thrust coincides with a swipe against your clit and the tension breaks, washing over you in waves. Harvey stills as you come, holding you close as you ride it out and letting you set the pace.

The last of the shudders passes and you can just barely breathe again when Harvey pulls out of you, grabs you by the hips, and gently turns you face down on the mattress. He snags a pillow to position under your hips, angling them upward just so, and then he’s straddling you and pressing into you again, this time much deeper than before. You cry out at the sensation, but then Harvey’s pulling out of you, clearly not sure if the sound was due to pain or pleasure.

“Is that okay?” he asks.

“More than okay.” You try to press him back into you, mostly unsuccessfully, then turn to begging. “ _ Please _ Harvey, just  _ fuck me. _ ”

That’s apparently a clear enough signal for him and he fills you again more forcefully than before, groaning as he bottoms out. “ _ Yoba _ , you  _ always _ feel so good.”

He finds his way into a rhythm, rough and fast and deep, panting in your ear with each thrust. Suddenly, you realize that at some point the panting morphed into words, phrases each punctuated by his movement: “feel you,” “want you,” “so good.”

With Harvey occupied, you work your hand between your body and the mattress, touching yourself as best you can. Harvey notices and growls approval into your ear.

“Think you can come for me again?” he asks, panting as he fucks you.

“Fuck  _ \-- yeah _ .” The tension’s building again, originating from someplace deeper and more primal than before.

You come first, though just barely, pleasure radiating through your body in waves and a muffled shout into a pillow. You shudder around him and he follows you into orgasm, driving into you one last time and holding there to ride it out with a low moan.

In the aftermath, he slumps down onto you instinctively, trying to catch his breath. He’s much bigger than you, but somehow the weight is pleasant. Comforting, maybe, to be so close together.

As he comes back to himself, he carefully pulls out of you and considerately rearranges you both, him laying on his back and you wrapped in his arms, head on his chest. You look up at him, hair even worse now that it’s thoroughly dampened with sweat, eyes slightly out of focus without his glasses, and kiss him gently before snuggling back into him.

“I think,” you say against him, “the treatment was a success.”

He chuckles. “In my professional capacity, I agree. But you should be aware that the condition will recur. I suspect you’ll need future treatments.”

“I’ll have to leave it in your very capable hands. I don’t have the skill to deal with it on my own.”

He abandons the pretense, gazing down at you with soft eyes. “I’m not sure what I’d do anymore if you weren’t here.”

“I know; you’d be taking care of all the townsfolk, just like before.” You pause a little. “The only difference now is that you have to take care of me, too. And I’m  _ very _ demanding.”

Harvey laughs a little, then goes thoughtful. “Not sure who’s actually taking care of who, here.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and strokes your hair. You realize it’s decidedly damp too, and gently kiss his cheek as you slowly pick yourself up off the bed.

“I need a shower before I can do anything else today,” you say. You hold out your hand to him and add, “Care to join me? I’d like to test if those expert fingers are as good at washing my hair.”

Smiling, he takes your hand and follows you into the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's more of this.
> 
> Also, I set up a writing sideblog if y'all have any ideas or prompts you might want me to try out; you can find me there.
> 
> anomalousspace.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> It's too bad they didn't discover the way through the hedge. I guess they were distracted.
> 
> Slightly conflicted about this one, tbh. Ended up just deciding to post it anyway. Oh also, obviously a couple of Harv's lines are taken directly from game dialogue. That is, the bit about the festival giving him intestinal pain and Harvey having nightmares about you in the clinic.
> 
> Might add a chapter 2 later, but no promises.


End file.
